


Crashed The Wedding

by the10amongstthese3s



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Anne isn't as bratty as she seems, Bonding, Fluff and Humor, One Shot, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the10amongstthese3s/pseuds/the10amongstthese3s
Summary: When Anne Boleyn invites Catherine of Aragon to a wedding, she knows the night will either end in tears or laughter. Which one remains undecided.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 74





	Crashed The Wedding

It was rare for Anne Boleyn and Catherine of Aragon to be left home alone together.

In fact, the two were rarely in each other’s presence under any circumstance without another queen there to mediate the conversation.

Even now, after months of therapy and talking through their issues, the two struggled to get on. That much was obvious to their poor housemates, who had to listen to the daily screaming matches between the two when Anne played pranks on Aragon or left the bathroom a mess. Even the smallest things would set the older woman into a rage if Anne was involved.

That’s why, when the two did finally find themselves alone, it was an odd situation, to say the least.

For a while, Anne had stuck to her bedroom to avoid the Spanish queen. On her mission to wind the woman up less, she’d quickly found that the easiest way to do that was to avoid her altogether. When she finally snuck downstairs for lunch, though, Anne found Aragon sat by herself in the living room with a distant look on her face.

Something was off about the way she stared blankly at the TV as if she was looking straight through it. It sent alarm signals blaring in Anne’s mind.

_Something was wrong._

“Hey, Catalina? Do you want some lunch? I think Jane left us some pasta salad in the fridge. I swear that woman thinks we can’t fend for ourselves for even an hour without her here.”

Anne’s attempt at a joke was met by surprised eyes that quickly softened as a small smile grew across the first queen’s face. She’d been so deep in her trance that she hadn’t even noticed Anne stood watching her. 

“Is she wrong?” Aragon quipped, making Anne give a smirk and a shrug as she waltzed to the kitchen to grab them both some food.

The two sat in silence as they ate, Anne not daring to push her luck enough to sit beside the older queen on the couch. Instead, the girl opted to sit on the ground, scrolling through her phone, only chancing the occasional glance to check Aragon’s expression. 

Was this how Jane felt when she got so protective of the girls? Anne had to wonder that as her entire body screamed for her to not leave Aragon’s side. That, if she did leave the woman, she’d regret it. 

It was an Instagram post that made an idea pop into Anne’s head.

“Hey, uh… Do you want to come to a wedding reception with me? We don’t have to sit through the ceremony or anything, don’t worry. I just feel like I should probably show my face at the party but I don’t wanna go alone.”

Aragon seemed to ponder that proposal for a minute. Attending a wedding with the woman who stole her husband? How very ironic!

Seeing the pout on the younger woman’s face though, Aragon knew she couldn’t refuse. It would be nice to get out of the house for a couple of hours, anyway. Plus, if it was really so bad, she could simply dump Anne at the reception and be home in time for the 10 o’clock news.

Getting that reluctant nod from Aragon was far easier than Anne had been anticipating. Perhaps the woman’s strange behaviour left her with no energy to fight. Or, perhaps, she simply liked weddings. Either way, Anne counted it as a win as she rushed upstairs to search for something to wear. She was completely determined to have Aragon enjoy herself. 

To bring the smile back to her face.

The wedding reception was held in the back of a pub, overflowing with a million different unfamiliar faces. Honestly, Aragon felt strangely intimidated at first until Anne began smiling at people, leading her through the room as she waved to the passing faces.

It may have struck Aragon as strange that Anne didn’t seem to speak properly with anyone - or even congratulate the bride and groom - if she had stopped for any amount to think about it. For the moment though, Aragon was solely focused on Anne’s excited smile as she told a hilarious story about how she’d almost ruined Maggie’s wedding in their past lives.

_Note to self: never let Anne Boleyn handle your wedding gown._

They’d been there almost an hour when Aragon finally asked a rather obvious question.

“So, who do you know here?”

“Oh, no one. We’re totally crashing.”

Aragon’s eyes widened in shock at that statement. At first, she honestly thought Anne was joking until she saw the devilish smirk on her face. Trust Anne to invite her to a stranger’s wedding.

Seeing the panic on her friend’s face, Anne gave a smile and took the woman’s hand in her own, leaning to whisper something in her ear. “We can leave whenever you want, okay? Just relax for a little while and let your hair down for once. We’re doing no harm by enjoying ourselves on the dance floor. Let’s just have some fun.”

Though the urge to flee flooded her system, Aragon found herself lost in Anne’s words, her feet seemingly glued in place as she pondered the girl’s intentions. She was right. They were doing no harm. Plus, they definitely deserved to have some fun.

Fuck it. 

With a roll of her eyes, Aragon gave a small smile and a nod, struggling to hold back a chuckle at Anne’s excited squeal as the younger woman dragged her towards the dance floor.

And so, they danced.

For what felt like hours, the two forgot about the world and focused solely on the movements of their feet, spinning one another around the room with gleeful grins. The only breaks they took were to occasionally partake in the free bar the bride’s father had so generously paid for.

The night went by in a flash. Dancing, posing with various silly props in the photo booth, cheering on the bride as she cut the cake. It wasn’t until Anne made a grave mistake that the family finally caught on to their crime.

It was a simple misstep. Nothing intentional. Still, Anne found herself flying face-first into a buffet table, sending it crashing to the ground.

Aragon had barely even registered what had happened when Anne grabbed her hand, dragging her along as they raced out of the building, with a man they recognised as the bride’s father yelling in their pursuit. 

And so, they ran. 

They ran and ran until their legs could carry them no further, and the shouting ceased. They ran until, finally, the two collapsed under the swings in a park, staring up at the starry night as they gasped for air. 

Without a word, Anne tapped her breathless friend on the shoulder and handed her something wrapped in a napkin. Aragon couldn’t hold back her laughter as she registered what she was holding.

There, in her hand, laid a piece of cake with a little figure of a bride and groom on the top.

For an eternity, the two could do nothing but laugh, rolling around on the ground in hysterics. If Anne had wanted to make Aragon smile, she’d definitely succeeded. The two wheezed until their lungs burned, and their cheeks grew stiff. Until their guts twisted inside of them, and their vision filled with tears. Until they weren’t even sure what exactly they were laughing at. 

Eventually, though, the laughter turned to occasional chuckles.

Once they were calm enough, Anne jumped to her feet and helped Aragon up, before taking a seat in one of the swings above them. Aragon followed suit, still giggling to herself as they shared the slice of cake.

It wasn’t until they were walking home that Aragon spoke up again.

“I cannot believe you just tricked me into crashing a wedding.”

Anne couldn’t help laughing at this. It really was an insane thing to think about. A strict Catholic and her sworn enemy, enjoying a night out at a stranger’s private wedding reception.

“Admit it. You had fun,” Anne teased, gently nudging the woman’s shoulder as they walked.

From the bright grin covering Aragon’s face, Anne knew her statement was true. Not only had the woman enjoyed herself, but the two had managed to survive a night alone and have fun, rather than attempting to kill each other. It may not have been much, but it was a start.

Giving a happy sigh, Aragon let her head rest against Anne’s shoulder as they walked, still holding back chuckles at the image of Anne falling face-first into a pile of sausage rolls.

“The most fun I’ve had in centuries.”

When the four other queens arrived home the next morning, they got nothing more than chuckles and shrugs when they inquired about the strip of photos stuck to the fridge. Still, they were thankful to know that whatever shenanigans had gone on seemed to have played a part in mending the women’s relationship. If it meant less screaming matches, the group was happy to be in the dark about whatever happened that night.

Glancing to the small stolen figure of a bride and groom on her bedside table, Aragon had to laugh. Maybe Anne Boleyn wasn’t as bad as she seemed.

Perhaps there was room for forgiveness in the Spanish queen’s heart, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, my loves! 💚 I'm back babeyyy! My writer's block is finally gone for now and I needed to write some fluff! I realised I've never written much of Boleyn and Aragon so here you go - I hope you enjoyed it!! 😊🦆


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